Two Poems by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

 

On My Milky Way 

 

(having survived silicone, the pull of gravity 

and the black hole of space) 

He takes a slice of my breast 

and holds it up to the screen                                    

like a colour-slide 

from a recent trek to Everest 

 

Filing it under 

the code for ‘going south’ 

he suggests when I might depart 

for my exotic garden spot 

that I may make my reservation in advance 

I am a woman with many reservations— 

some of them in Hell 

and Death I think is no Holiday Inn 

I am already booked well into Today 

Every room a different number 

Every suite a different theme 

all in the likeness of God 

Presently I will be occupying the ever-popular 

In the Name of the Father Holy Mother Mary and Joseph 

Sweet Jesus! What Could You Have Been Thinking Suite 

Followed by the Suite of Remorse 

Suite of Despair 

Suite of Forgiveness 

Suite of Redemption 

How Suite of You 

And finally at the end of the day 

I am no doubt expected to lay my head down in the 

Big Dumb Bottled Blonde Does Penance Suite 

Room after room 

day after day— 

keyholes for eyes 

opening and closing 

with locks that will not turn 

 

Labels will do that— 

keep you in your place 

keep you from turning into 

something else 

someone new 

 

Words are different than labels                                    

Words can free you 

like a memory with a mind of its own 

Well, haha yours 

Try to hold down a memory 

blindfold it 

tie it to the bedpost 

question it mercilessly 

and it will give up nothing 

you don’t already know 

deep down inside 

 

I take the word label 

and over it I write the word healing 

I take the word Light 

and I shine it across my landscape 

across my tale of two cities-- 

my brilliant marquee he threatens 

to plunge into darkness 

 

I say the word Liiiiiighhhhtt 

and when at last I glimpse its meaning 

the ecstasy of a zillion shooting stars 

leaves its trail of wonder 

along my milky way 

 

Ether-e-al knows who I am 

will make this crossing with me 

Ether-e-al will not pull into 

some dark empty station 

with Infiltrating Lobular Carcinoma 

for a name

Pierced-Tongue  Pierced-Heart   

 

So…uh  what are you? 

if you don’t mind me asking… 

(Not who are you mind you 

but what are you   he says) 

Gay? Trans ? Bi? 

Just curious   he smiles 

 

Here in the sex shop 

on the wrong side of the tracks 

an old guy polishes his dildo-- 

a slick silver missile 

heading my way  

his lips   gleaming with saliva 

 

In the distance   the whistle of a train… 

 

I’m just me 

human be-ing 

black AND white 

wrong AND right 

day AND night                                 

Queer   if you like 

 

Ahhhh   What a waste!   he sighhhhs 

shaking his head 

eyes skimming my brimming womanhood 

What a waste   I sighhhh 

remembering how I melted 

in the arms of that girl 

Ohhh God   Yessssss  

how she brought me to my knees 

how my every cell  

sang the Hallelujah chorus! 

 

She was bi   you know 

died of covid   you know 

Reminded me that anywhere you go 

(Iowa of all places) 

there you are--- 

either stuck in a dark closet 

or unmasking your secret 

in not so broad daylight 

 

Oddly enough                                                  

I find this asshole sympathetic 

in a pathetic kind of way--  

this old stud pushing 60 

holding a stiff iron 

to my 22-year-old   vagina  

hammer cocked 

his finger   on the trigger 

(or so he wishes)— 

 

I mean  

everyone needs love 

Easy cum   hard way to go 

There IS   nowhere to go 

but Love 

 

A train passes… 

 

But   hey   I DO mind! 

Won’t give him the satisfaction  

of telling him my orientation    

my joie de vivre 

my true designation 

no justification necessary 

I place the item on the counter 

and hand him a straight 50 

  

Queer huh?  You look more like a…sorry to say it… 

freak   an attractive freak   but 

(Awww    the bullets and accolades keep coming) 

that pink hair! Jesus!  

and    what’s that on the tip of your tongue?! 

You’re too pretty to be a lesbo! 

How do you know you are? 

Have you had sex with a man yet? 

Maybe you haven’t met the RIGHT man yet! 

he insists   reluctant to hand me my change 

And    what IS that? on the tip of your ?! 

Are you fucking kidding me ?! 

 

Another train passes 

I count to 10 

Love     I tell him…sticking out my tongue     pure gold 

 

Antonia Alexandra Klimenko was first introduced on the BBC and to the literary world by the legendary James Meary Tambimuttu of Poetry London–-publisher of T.S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas, Henry Miller and Bob Dylan, to name a few.  his death, it was his friend, the late great Kathleen Raine, who took an interest in her writing and encouraged her to publish.

A nominee for the Pushcart Prize and a former San Francisco Poetry Slam Champion, she is widely published. Her work has appeared in (among others) XXI Century World Literature (which she represents France) and Maintenant: Journal of Contemporary Dada Writing and Art archived at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. and New York’s Museum of Modern Art.

She is the recipient of two grants: one from Poets in Need, of which Michael (100 Thousand Poets for Change) Rothenberg is a co-founder; the second—the 2018 Generosity Award bestowed on her by Kathleen Spivack and Joseph Murray for her outstanding service to international writers through SpokenWord Paris where she is Writer/ Poet in Residence.  Her collected poems On the Way to Invisible is forthcoming in 2022.